Hazel struggled with the car door, frustration etched on her face as she prodded Francisco with both her hands and knees. He remained stiff, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.
Amidst the tense atmosphere, Francisco ordered the driver to head directly to the mansion.
"Drive home quickly."
His terse command hung in the air, emphasizing the gravity of his mood. The driver, experienced at discerning his boss's temper, nodded subtly and accelerated the car.
"I want to go back…"
"Hey, stop the car."
The driver, recognizing the intensity of his boss's glare through the rearview mirror, chose to ignore Hazel's plea. He kept his focus on the road, determined to fulfill Francisco's instructions promptly.
Undeterred, Hazel persisted.
"Let me go."
She extended her hands towards the door, attempting to unlock it in a desperate bid to change their course.
The car sped through the city streets, each passing moment adding to the tension inside. Hazel's attempts to alter their destination were met with resolute silence from the driver, who was keenly aware of the consequences of crossing Francisco's temper.
Despite Hazel's persistent attempts to unlock the car door, Francisco firmly held her hands, pulling her closer to him. The effects of alcohol were evident in Hazel's movements, her coordination and judgment impaired by the intoxication.
Francisco's grips on her wrists were unyielding, and Hazel, in her inebriated state, struggled unsuccessfully to free herself from his hold. The more she resisted, the tighter his grasp became, his patience wearing thin.
His eyes bore into her with a mixture of frustration and anger. The situation, fueled by alcohol and emotions, reached a boiling point inside the confined space of the car.
"I don't want to be here."
"I want to go back and dance with handsome boys."
Hazel slurred her words, the alcohol in her system amplifying her candidness.
Francisco, irritated by her persistent attempts and her declaration about wanting to dance with other men, finally decided to intervene decisively. With a forceful push, he propelled Hazel back onto the car seat, his cold gaze piercing through the haze of her inebriation.
"Do you really want to dance with them?"
His voice cut through the air, carrying a tone of sternness. Hazel, momentarily startled by the sudden shift in his demeanor, looked up at him with bleary eyes.
"Yes, Rafael was really hot and muscular. I really want to dance with him."
Hazel's chuckle filled the air as she looked mischievously at Francisco, playfully moving her legs onto his thighs. Her affirmative response about Rafael being hot and muscular didn't go unnoticed by Francisco, who reacted with a raised eyebrow. However, his reaction took an unexpected turn.
Without a word, Francisco swiftly unbuckled his belt, catching Hazel off guard. Before she could comprehend his intentions, he used the belt to tie her hands. Hazel, now bound by the improvised restraint, expressed her displeasure in an angry tone.
"What... what are you doing? You are so bad. Let me go," Hazel protested, her frustration evident.
But Francisco remained calm, his voice steady as he responded, "You will know soon where you are going and what I am going to do with you."
Hazel's eyes widened, and she began tossing her legs in protest, behaving like a spoiled child who didn't want to comply.
"No, I don't want to go anywhere. I want to dance the entire night," she exclaimed, her defiant tone punctuating her desire to run away.
As Hazel continued tossing her hands in protest, Francisco maintained his composure, tightening his grip on her to ensure she didn't create further chaos. He swiftly pulled her into his lap, holding her in place as she struggled against the restraints.
"Why did you tie me?" Hazel shouted, frustration evident in her voice.
Francisco chose to remain silent, focusing on his decision rather than engaging in a verbal exchange with the intoxicated Hazel. Instead, he commanded the driver to increase the speed, urging him to get them to their destination faster.
The driver responded promptly, pushing the car to its limits as it sped through the city streets. The urgency in Francisco's actions hinted at a destination known only to him, leaving Hazel bewildered and agitated.
On the other side of the city, Max stood at Diana's apartment. He had chosen not to accompany Francisco to the party that night. Max, with a lit cigarette in hand, stared out of the window, observing the city lights. Diana's room remained illuminated, indicating that she was still awake.
Exhaling a puff of smoke, Max reflected on the numerous cigarettes he had consumed that night—this one being the twelfth.
He watched intently as Ben's car glided out of the first floor car, signaling his arrival. Max's sharp gaze met Ben's as their eyes locked in a moment of silent tension.
As Ben slowed the car, Max nonchalantly tossed his cigarette to the ground, a calculated gesture that conveyed a mix of indifference and defiance. The air crackled with unspoken words as Ben stepped out of the vehicle, his eyes fixed on Max.
"What are you doing here?"
Max, undeterred, responded in a calm, measured tone, "What am I doing here, and what you are asking me?"
"What can a boyfriend do in front of his girlfriend's apartment?"
"Boyfriend?"
Ben continued, his tone dripping with skepticism.
"Do you think Diana sees you as her boyfriend?"
Ben taunted, a smirk playing on his lips.
Max's calm facade cracked, revealing a simmering intensity beneath the surface. As Ben's taunting words hung in the air, Max arched his brows, his voice laced with a subtle challenge.
"You seem to know a lot about her."
Closing the distance between them, Max advanced toward Ben with a purpose, each step echoing a determination that sent a shiver down Ben's spine. Ben, sensing the sudden shift in Max's demeanor, narrowed his eyes, wary of the brewing storm.
As Max closed in, a sly grin played on his lips, a mixture of defiance and amusement. Ben, in response, arched his own brows, grappling with a growing confusion. Max's unpredictable behavior hinted at a depth of emotion and intent that Ben hadn't anticipated.
Caught off guard, Ben couldn't help but feel a twinge of uncertainty. Max's demeanor seemed to oscillate between controlled anger and a hint of madness.